Set and Match
It was the final set,
Victory was near.
It had come down to this,
The world would get,
And with one little sphere,
Into a company of bliss.
Match point, it was
Not even a sound had roamed,
All was quiet,
Like a deep summer abode
One, then another, and finally the third
The ball flew by, like a hungry bird.
Back and forth, and back again.
As I swung in the same rhythm.
My last sweat had broken,
Had this been the end?
And with this last final stroke,
My spirit would fly, transcend.
A miss, a screech,
A howling noise.
A gasp, a roar,
A tear down my face.
Match.